Take Me Away
by CIAChick
Summary: PostCasino Night. Pam's lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about how soft his tshirt would feel against her cheek.


He's awake earlier than he should be. He slowly packs his duffel bag, and takes his iPod and various other necessities out to his car. The sky over Scranton is still gray and dark as he picks her up at the motel she called him from last night. When she gets in, he notices the dark circles under her eyes and knows she hasn't been sleeping.

Last night, when he answered the phone, it had taken him a couple minutes to realize it was her. She was okay. She was in a seedy motel near the outskirts of Scranton. Through her tears, it had been hard to make out what she said exactly. Something about being sorry for calling him so late, that things with Roy were wrong, that she couldn't disappoint her family. She wanted to go somewhere, anywhere else. _With you_, she'd said. He did remember that. She had told him expressly she wanted to get the heck out of town with _him _. He hadn't said much, just let her talk, sniffle, and finally calm down enough so she could go to sleep.

But she hadn't slept. Neither had he. At three o'clock in the morning, he had powered his computer up, searching for a place to go.

She had told him on Casino Night that she had never been to a real casino. He hates Atlantic City, but thought Las Vegas, the desert, might be nice. He decides to go north instead. Canada. Niagara Falls.

She's quiet for the first hour, and he looks over, realizes she's finally fallen asleep. She's beautiful: her light lashes blend into her creamy skin, her small nose dotted with freckles, her pink lips are slightly parted. If he doesn't move, holds his breath, he can hear her breathing, even and slow.

When she stirs, starts to wake, they are passing through Kirkwood. The Corolla merges onto 81.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice still thick with sleep.

"I thought you said it didn't matter," he says lightly, and she catches his teasing tone.

"You're right. I did." She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She sits up, tucking one of her feet beneath her. "So I guess you want to know what happened."

"Only if you want to tell me," he replies, and he hopes he sounds sincere. She studies him for a second. He can feel her pale green eyes on his face, but then she nods, turning back to the window. "I brought tunes," he points to his iPod. "Or, check the glove compartment." She pulls out a notebook. "So if you feel like playing any games."

"Like MASH?" He hears the amused lilt in her voice and he's pleased that she's delighted by something so simple.

"I was thinking more along the lines of travel games, but that's fine, too."

She smiles. "You didn't have to do all this, Jim."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did." He clears his throat. "I think—the other night, it was out of the blue, and I shouldn't have said anything."

"But you did."

"If I could take it back—okay, maybe I'm glad I said it. I had to tell you before, if I had done it later…"

"I know." She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't really want to talk about it right now. Okay?" He nods, and she sits there for a minute, staring at the notepad, at her hands, which are curled up into small fists.

He gazes out ahead of them, concentrates on driving. His hands are perfectly located at the ten and two position, his mirrors are all in the right places, his headlights work, he still has over half a tank of gas. After he goes through the checklist, he lets his eyes wander over to her again. She's opened the notebook, her hand poised over the page, but she's staring out the passenger side window.

* * *

As she gazes out the window, the scenery flickering past, she's not even taking in the details of the trees, or how the sky has the puffiest clouds right now, or even wondering what was in the big barn they just passed. These are the things she would normally observe. She would remember to sketch them later. But now her mind is too full—too full of what she really wants, of Jim, of Roy, of her family, of _herself_. 

It surprises her to realize how little she takes herself into consideration when making decisions. She doesn't do anything for herself, not really. She caters to Roy, what he thinks, but why? She can't remember if this has always been the way with them or if things changed. They must have, because as she sorts through the major decisions in their life, it seems like she has always left them up to Roy. Buying a new truck, moving in together, all Roy's decisions. She remembers her mother's tone of voice every time she told her of these decisions. That tone was a good indication of whether she approved of what her daughter was or wasn't doing. She knew her mother tried to hide it, but by now, after almost 27 years, she knew what to listen for. When Roy had started doting on her, when they had dated in high school, her mom had been so happy and surprised. When he yet again failed to set a date for their wedding, she knew her mom had been a bit hesitant, the disappointment had been evident. When she talked about Jim, it had been all curiosity and pleasure.

She realizes this last bit with a sigh, a tingling in her extremities, as she tries her hardest not to glance over at him. She needs to call her mom. Even though it had been her decision, it _had_ to be, some support and encouragement in the form of her mom is welcome.

"Can we stop? I'm hungry," she confesses. It's a half truth because what she needs more is some privacy to place her call. Jim nods, pulling off at the next exit.

As they enter a diner, Pam blinks against the bright orange tables and the overabundance of neon on the outside of the building that reflects wildly off the windows. Jim chuckles behind her. Since they don't seem to have to wait to be seated, they pick out a table near the back. Their waitress, a middle-aged woman, steps over to take their drink orders. "Coffee?" she asks.

"I'm guessing you don't have frappucinos here," Jim teases. The woman does not look amused, and Pam has to choke back a laugh. "Coffee's fine," he says finally, clearing his throat.

"Same here," she nods. Once the woman disappears into the kitchen again, Pam lets out a giggle. "I thought she was going to throw you out."

Jim's eyes widen and he laughs. "Not exactly the small-town hospitality I expected." She can't help but notice how his long arms stretch out in front of him, almost reaching where her hands are placed on the table. He slides back as their waitress returns, filling up two coffee cups.

"Should I leave the pot?"

"Sure, that would be great." Jim replies.

The waitress pulls out her pad and simply stands there, waiting, until Jim realizes they are supposed to order. He nods at Pam to go first. "I want the silver dollar pancakes, please."

"Anything on 'em?"

"Do you have strawberries?" she ventures.

The waitress sighs, rolling her eyes. "Well, do you? She just asked you a question," Jim speaks up. The woman looks surprised by this, like she had never had someone return her rude attitude.

"They're frozen, not fresh," she finally murmurs.

"That's fine." Jim orders the same thing, except he adds a side of bacon. He rolls his eyes when the waitress leaves and Pam giggles again.

"You think it's safe for me to leave you here by yourself? I need to make a call." She holds up her cell phone.

"Uh, yeah, that's fine." She starts to leave when she hears him speak up again. "You calling your mom?" She smiles in response as she passes him and heads back outside.

She dials home and someone picks up on the second ring. "Pam?" Her mom's voice floats over the line. "Is that you? I was so worried about you. I've been calling the house all morning."

A sense of security and comfort wash over her and she blinks back tears. "Yeah, it's me, mom."

* * *

Jim can see Pam outside the diner. She walks back and forth as she talks, but stays close to the door. The waitress returns with their food and when he looks back out at Pam, her shoulders are slumped, and he can tell she's crying. He takes a slug of his coffee and wonders if he gets up if the waitress will dump their food. He decides to risk it. They can always go to a drive-thru somewhere. 

When he steps outside, she's leaning against the building, cell phone clenched in her fist, tears streaming down her face. She takes a deep, shuddering breath as he pulls her towards him. She wipes at her tears with her knuckles and his heart drops to his toes when he notices she's not wearing her ring. She seems to notice how still he is and she looks up at him, her eyes curious, but still puffy from crying. He shakes his head and squeezes her shoulder. "Your pancakes are getting cold," he finally says and opens the door for her.

The waitress gives them a strange look as they walk back to their table, and Jim is grateful their food is still there. She starts cutting up her pancakes, eating a strawberry or two as she does so. He pours some syrup onto his plate and dips a piece of bacon into it, just to make her flinch. "Mmm, high fructose corn syrup and pig fat. My two favorite food groups." He shoots her a sticky grin.

She manages a smile. "You are such a _boy_ sometimes."

He finishes eating a little before her, but just sips on his coffee, letting her take her time. "If there were more people around, we could play 1, 2, 3."

She picks a strawberry off her plate and plops it in her mouth. "1, 2, 3?" She asks as she finishes chewing. He tries not to notice how cute she is when she eats. _No one _ is cute when they eat.

"Yeah, 1, 2, 3, He's Yours. My sisters played it all the time."

"You have more than one sister?" She's surprised.

"Elizabeth and Margaret. Maggie. No one ever calls her Margaret."

"And then your brother, Robert. You're the baby," she grins and he knows she's picturing the picture from his high school yearbook. "Anyway, the game."

"Oh, right. You can take the first guy that walks by, or if you decide to pass, assuming there's somebody better out there, you can take the next guy that walks by, or if you don't take him, you're automatically stuck with the third guy."

"Oh, okay. Kind of like Who Would You Do except with random people on the street."

"Right. So I'll go to give you an example. My first choice," he motions to her. "You. Or I can pass you up, wait for a second choice." He points over his shoulder at the waitress. "Or I can risk it, wait for a third, but I can't go back to one or two. I think I'll stick with two. She's such a ray of sunshine." She laughs, trying not to choke on her food.

Their waitress doesn't seem in any hurry to take their plates or bring them the check, so Jim leaves a twenty and they climb back into the car.

"I can't believe you left her that much. You know our meal was like eight dollars."

Jim shrugs. "Maybe she'll be nice to us next time we come back."

"Next time?" she scoffs. "You won't even remember you were at this hole in the wall."

He's pretty sure he remembers everything he does with her.

* * *

She starts doodling in the notebook as they pull back out onto the interstate. Since it's fresh in her mind, she sketches a quick outline of the diner, complete with two figures in one of the windows. 

She turns the page quickly, wondering whether he saw. She starts to note the license plates around them, finding the typical ones first: New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Connecticut, Ohio, Michigan. She spots a couple Massachusetts, a Maine. She remembers that her family would go camping in Maine when she was little. They would pick blueberries; her dad would try and teach her how to fish. As she got older, she would spend hours outside with her watercolors and easel, trying to capture the color of the forest, of the water. There had been so much life there, in that little space she had secluded herself. It had been enthralling to think about how the rest of the world, the whole world, held places like that.

Once she wanted to travel to every continent. She wonders what happened to that.

"Did you ever go to Europe? You know, in college, it seemed like everyone went backpacking."

"No, not Europe. I actually went to South America."

"Really? Why?"

He shrugs. "I took Spanish, thought I might get along there better. My buddies thought it might be cheaper."

"Was it amazing?"

"It was pretty surreal. Of course no one's Spanish was up to par, but we got by. I saw a lot of ancient ruins, hiked through part of a rainforest, rode on a bus with some livestock. It was definitely an adventure. We were lucky to get a shower every three days or so. I can show you the pictures sometime."

"But you would do it again?" she asks eagerly.

He chuckles. "I would go back, yeah. I don't think I could handle the backpacking part again, though. I much prefer hotels."

"That's so exciting. I've never been…_anywhere_. Not even to visit the West Coast."

"I remember," he replies softly. "So where have you been?"

"St. Louis is the farthest west, I think. Canada the farthest north. I went to Disney World when I was younger. Never been to the Caribbean or Mexico. Maine. We went to Maine a lot, my family."

"It's beautiful there," he nods.

Her skin prickles when she thinks of it. "Yeah, it is."

"So you want to travel?" He looked over at her, a smile emerging across his face. She loves that smile. It's the I think you should totally do it, supportive smile.

"Someday. Sooner than someday." Someday had been her refrain for the past five years. Someday had become now. She couldn't keep saying it, letting her life pass her by. At almost twenty-seven, she didn't have the little house, the husband, or maybe the kid she thought she would have after saying 'someday' about for the past ten years.

A few minutes later, Jim turns on his iPod and Billy Joel's familiar voice floats out of the speakers: _Vienna waits for you…_

_

* * *

_

They continue listening to oldies as they make their way through upper New York. He catches her quietly singing along with an Eagles song and her cheeks turn pink, but he just smiles and starts signing along too. He listens as his low voice blends with her higher one. Although neither of them are outstanding singers, his ears buzz when their voices harmonize.

When Niagara Falls started to appear at the top of the roadside signs, Jim tries to distract her, keep her from figuring it out for a little longer. She plays along, naming off what states she has so far in the license plate game or who is singing the song on his iPod. When it gets within twenty, she finally asks again. "Are we going to Niagara Falls?"

"Um, maybe?" Jim tries to skirt the question.

"Well its either that or drive into the ocean and I really didn't envision this trip ending like _Thelma and Louise_."

"But _Thelma and Louise_ was at the Grand Canyon."

"I just meant driving off things in general."

"Oh, no, there will be no ocean driving on this trip. How long have you known?"

"A couple hours. Pulling onto 90 was pretty obvious, but I didn't want to say anything."

"You haven't been here, have you?"

She shakes her head. "I always wanted to go on the Maid of the Mist, but Roy would never--" she stumbles to a stop, her eyes wide.

"It's okay." He waves it off.

"I'm sorry."

"Pam, come on. It's gonna happen. It's not a big deal."

Her head is bowed and she's picking at her nails. "I need to tell you."

"You need to tell me what happened?" he asks, confused for a moment.

"Yes," she practically whispers.

He sighs. "Can it wait? I know it's important. Believe me, I know. I just—I don't want the trip to start out this way."

"So when?"

"After we check in." He'd wanted to stay in an inn or a bed and breakfast, but the rates had been outrageous and he didn't want the trip to feel like it was a romantic getaway. The Ramada would have to do.

Pam bounces down on the bed gleefully as Jim stows his suitcase in the corner. "This isn't too bad--" His voice catches in his throat as he directs his gaze at her, or more precisely, what is underneath her.

"What?" she asks, baffled.

"Oh shit. The bed."

She finally notices. There's only one. "What are we going to do?"

He turns on his heel, heading for the door. "I know I asked for a double room," he mumbles. He lets the door shut behind him before she can reply.

He's trying to be so patient. Even if she tells him tonight that she left Roy, sleeping in the same bed as her may break him. Too much, too fast. He sighs, glad to be making the short trip to the front desk so he can get some air and clear his mind a little.

"Looks like we're out of luck." He shrugs as he returns to the room.

"I guess, if it's really that big a deal, I can get a room somewhere else," she mentions.

"Oh, well, I should do that. But that's not a bad idea."

"Jim." she sighs in an exasperated tone. "I was kidding. But you definitely know how to make a girl feel special."

"No, I didn't mean to—sorry, if I implied that—that's not it at all."

She squints her eyes at him. "Don't lie. You think I have cooties, don't you?" She can't help it, her face breaks into a smile.

He lets out a laugh. "Of course. I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. I mean, this is your weekend, so let me know."

"You're sweet." He can feel himself blush and he steps over to the window so he can breathe again.

* * *

"Are you hungry at all?" he asks sheepishly as they leave the hotel. 

"A little," she admits, even though its mostly for his benefit. She's too nervous, her stomach is tied in knots at the thought of bringing everything up again. She decides to wait until after they've gotten something to eat, maybe when they are by the falls, her voice almost drowned out by the rushing water. Then he would have to lean in to hear her. She stops herself, but can feel her face growing hot. She directs her gaze away from him for a moment.

Instead of going to a restaurant or drive-thru, Jim stops at a grocery store. "Is this okay?"

"Sure," she nods. They go up and down the aisles and he teases her about liking crunchy peanut butter better than smooth. She laughs when he admits he likes crunchy better too. It's underrated as a peanut butter.

They make the sandwiches in the car. She holds the bread and he places his hand against hers as he spreads the peanut butter. He tries not to meet her eyes, even though when his hand touches hers, she looks up, studying his face.

"Are we going to the observation deck first?" he asks, pulling away when they complete their culinary masterpieces.

"Yeah, sure," she agrees, her mouth full of sandwich. She realizes how long its been since she's had a peanut butter sandwich. It takes her back to the elementary school lunchroom where she would sit with her friends and yelp when David, a boy in her class, would pull her hair when he walked by.

Jim pays her way to go up to the observation deck and she wonders if she can convince him to let her give him some money to cover gas, at least, if nothing else. When they reach the top of the observation deck, Pam sucks in a breath. Its overwhelming how loud and how tall the falls are. They stand along the railing and Jim reads from a pamphlet he picked up at the entrance. The American falls are actually smaller than the Canadian falls because of natural erosion. He also notes the Canadian side is where they did most of the stunts. "You know, sending down barrels and tight rope walking."

"Well now I'm not so impressed. I want to see the Canadian ones." Pam pretends to pout and Jim shakes his head, his laugh whipped away by the wind and the pounding of the water around them.

"There are supposed to be hiking trails near where we came in. Do you want to walk along there for awhile?"

"I'm not really dressed for hiking, but okay."

"I think you'll be fine. You might get your Keds dirty, though." He points to her shoes. They aren't her usual white pair, but navy blue with a white and blue stripe down the side.

As they start off, Pam is pleased to note that Jim is right. Its not so much a hike as it is a meandering path which wanders closer to the falls and then back again, providing different views through the foliage. Part of the fun is just walking and not even being able to see the falls, but hearing the dull roar.

She's balancing as she tries to make her way across a rocky part of the path. "Hey, whoa, hold on there." Jim catches up and extends his hand, but Pam has already plunged ahead. As she tries to backtrack, her foot slips and twists in between the rocks slightly. She loses her balances and falls forward, catching her self on the rocks. "Oh geez, are you okay?" Jim scrambles after her and she nods, blinking back tears. The fall wasn't that bad, but she's embarrassed and her hands are stinging from where she caught herself.

"I'll be fine." She grabs Jim's arm and lifts herself up. She settles herself on a nearby rock and rolls up her pant leg. There's a tiny scrape on her leg, but its barely bleeding. Jim examines it, his brow furrowed, and for a moment, she wonders what he would be like as a pediatrician or someone who worked with kids.

"I have band aids in the car if you need one," he offers, his hands warm on her leg. She doesn't want to move, but she focuses on him and forces herself to answer before he starts to think she hit her head in the fall.

"No, I'll be fine. Really. I'm a big girl."

"I know," he replies, sounding almost hurt. He lets go of her leg and gets up.

"Thank you though.". She doesn't get up though. "Hey, come here," she calls, patting the rock next to her.

"Let's just go back," he replies, not turning around. She's hurt him and for a second it infuriates her how he can go from being so caring to acting like a hurt puppy when she didn't do anything wrong. She reminds herself that he's being awfully patient with her and that the stress of the situation, being alone in the woods with her, is probably getting to him. It's getting to her, she realizes, her face still hot. She stands up and attempts to move toward him, but she's still stuck in the bumpy section of rocks. When she tries to move, one of her feet twists and her hearts starts to hammer faster, afraid she's going to twist her ankle.

"Jim," she calls, her voice unsure. He turns this time and the exasperated look on his face melts away when he sees her trying to get across to him. He almost laughs, but then swallows and regains his composure. He comes up behind her and she wraps her arms around his neck. He lifts her legs, scooping her up. Pam's eyes catch his and she quickly drops her gaze, concentrating on how tightly his arms are around her and how his breath is hot on her neck. She moves her arms closer around him and her fingers brush the hairs on the back of his neck. He looks at her again and she sucks in her breath, thinking for a minute that he's leaning in—he is—and her eyes flutter close, only to hear the footfalls of people coming down the trail toward them. Shit, she thinks, her eyes flying open again. Jim clears his throat and sets her down on the trail as the group appears around the corner. Pam straightens her shirt and falls in line behind Jim, smiling politely as the group passes.

They are both quiet for the next few minutes as the sounds of the other hikers fall away. She remembers what she was going to say before and she opens her mouth to explain everything, but then Jim starts talking about what else she wants to do and she forgets, concentrating on their tentative itinerary.

* * *

They wander around the town for a bit, realizing there's not much else to Niagara besides the falls and the tourist shops and restaurants. He's tired, but he feels like it would be a waste of their time to go back to the hotel, order pizza, and veg out until bed. 

Pam points out an Italian place that looks suitable enough. There are people sitting outside, which he always takes as a good sign, so he pulls over to park.

There are a bunch of teenage girls standing at the hostess stand when they walk in. Local girls, he thinks, or up here for the summer, because they are gossiping and laughing like they've been best friends for years. When he asks for a table for two, one of the girls smiles quickly at him, and he notices her glance to Pam behind him, probably assuming they are a couple. As they walk towards their table, he swears he hears one of the girls "aww" at them, but it may just be a figment of his imagination.

The table is small and instead of sitting across from each other, the hostess put them at the same corner of the table, so his elbows keep bumping hers. Finally, he gives up and just looks over her shoulder as she holds the menu for both of them.

"I think I might get a glass of wine." Pam announces as they start to look over the menu.

"Does that mean I have to be manly and get a beer?"

"No, you don't have to get anything."

"I'd like a glass of wine too, actually."

"Really? I mean, there's nothing wrong with that. Roy hated wine." Her face falls again and she sighs, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "I have to stop doing that."

"No, Pam, it's okay. Really. You were with him for a long time." Jim hopes she doesn't correct his use of past tense. She doesn't. Or maybe she doesn't notice.

Jim doesn't even remember what he had for dinner. He just remembers that the wine was good and he kept making Pam laugh. The way she laughs--the soft start and then the trilling tone of it when she really gets going--he falls into it and wants to hear it repeated so badly. He wants to make her laugh every day.

They return to the hotel, both exhausted and full and maybe still a little bit woosy from the wine they had at dinner. Pam scoots onto the bed, plumping up the pillows behind her and lets him flip through the channels. She puts her hand on his wrist when she wants him to stop on something. They spend several minutes trying to figure out what movies the cable channels are in the middle of, but then give up, and watch something soothing on the food or travel channel as they both doze off.

"God, we're such old people," Pam says a minute later, turning on the bedside lamp.

"They have colored light shows at the falls at night." He sits up, scratching his head.

"You said you were exhausted."

"No, I'll be okay. If you want to go, we can."

"What time do they start?"

"I think they repeat every 15 minutes once it turns dark." He glances towards the window, which is letting in only the dimmest sliver of light.

Pam's eyes grow big and she claps her hands together when she notices its almost dark. "Can we go, can we?"

He chuckles, sitting down on the end of the bed to pull his shoes back on. "Yeah."

Its cooler outside now and before the show even starts, Pam keeps rubbing her arms to stay warm.

"Hey, do you want my sweatshirt?"

"No thanks. I'm fine."

"Pam, you're freezing. Come on."

"No, you need it." She waves him off.

He unzips the sweatshirt. "It's not a big deal."

"Well, alright. But I have a better idea." She leans into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Pam," he says softly. He isn't sure this is the best idea, but as he starts to object, they are plunged into pitch black. He feels Pam draw closer to him in anticipation and he pulls the sweatshirt out around them both, his hands pausing on Pam's back. The colored lights are mesmerizing and he slowly lowers his head so his chin rests on the top of Pam's.

Jim only realizes the show has ended when Pam starts to move out from their little cocoon. "Hey," she says quietly, pressing her hand into his chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Yeah, I'm good."

"The show was pretty, huh?"

"It was really nice."

"Thanks for bringing me here. It was a good idea." He isn't sure if she means the light show or Niagara Falls, but he doesn't really care.

Its not until they get back to the room and Pam's in the shower that he realizes she never told him what happened with Roy.

* * *

Jim's brushing his teeth when she comes out of the bathroom, her hair wet. He tries to move out of the way and steps back, just as she tries to slip behind him. 

"Oh sorry," she laughs nervously. She brushes her hair out and scrunches it with the towel. As she pulls back the covers on the bed, she realizes how weird this is going to be. Jim takes his time getting ready and she thinks for a second that maybe she can fall asleep before he gets in bed. Except she's not tired.

He steps over in between the bed and the wall to climb in his side. He's dressed in a gray t-shirt and dark blue boxers and his hair looks like he just ran his hands through it. Pam's lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about how soft his t-shirt would feel against her cheek.

"Not tired?" he asks.

"Not really."

"I know a trick for that." He turns the television on to SportsCenter and turns the volume down low.

She laughs. "Is this what you use to lull your dates to sleep with?"

"Hardly. I use it against insomnia. Works like a charm, especially when it starts rerunning every hour on the hour. Then you've seen all the highlights three times and can't help but close your eyes."

She notices he's still perched on the edge of the bed. "Hey look," she pats the space between them. "There's room. Its queen sized, so it's a little bigger."

"That's what she said," Jim retorts, sending her into a fit of giggles. When she stops laughing, he's gotten in bed and he's propped up on one elbow, half watching the TV and half watching her.

He smiles and shakes his head. They lie awake for awhile, talking, as they flip the channels to various late night shows. When Jim starts getting quiet, his eyelids drooping, she turns off the lamp by the bed. "Good night," she whispers.

"Good night."

She turns on her side, away from him, but she concentrates on his breathing until it slows. Then she moves her hand slowly, inching it towards him. Her fingers brush against his skin and she leaves her hand there, her hand an inch away from his arm. So close, her fingers burn to feel the warmth of his skin. Just then Jim shifts and rolls towards her, his hand now nestled near the small of her back.

She thinks it's the closest to perfect she'll ever be.

* * *

He wakes up the next morning, his head buried in between their two pillows, the ends of her hair tickling his face. He realizes his arm is thrown across her waist and he sits up slowly, trying to see if she's awake yet. When she's not, he lays back down, not wanting to move his arm, but knowing he should. He traces his fingers along her hip softly before pulling his hand away and getting up to peek outside.

The day is gorgeous, already brighter and sunnier than the day before. He wishes he could sit here and watch her wake up, because he can't imagine anything more beautiful, but decides to take a shower instead. Blinking against the harshness of the bathroom light, he turns on the shower and steps under the hot stream of water.

She is sitting up in bed, looking out the window when he gets out of the shower.

"Hey, did you sleep okay?"

"Actually, I slept great. How about you?"

He stretches, yawning. "Pretty well. Someone kept me up with their snoring, though."

Her mouth drops open and she throws a pillow at his chest. "You're dead!"

"It was very lady-like, though, I promise!" Another pillow. He laughs, ducking. "Ready to venture down to the lovely continental breakfast?"

"Is it only lovely because it's free?"

"No, it's lovely because its…continental?" he guesses. "Whatever that means."

"Let me get changed and we can go."

The small meeting room where the breakfast spread is located was packed, so after making their selections, they head out to the lobby to scope out some seats. The soft drone of FoxNews in the corner is quickly drowned out by a family with two small kids. An older couple with plates in their hands surveys the room for a space to sit.

Jim slides closer to Pam on the couch. "Here you go," he offers.

"Thank you, young man," the woman says.

"No problem."

"Its pretty crowded today, isn't it?" The man speaks up and Pam nods.

"Oh George, we're being rude. I'm Nancy and this is George."

Pam's quiet, so he introduces them. "I'm Jim. This is Pam."

"Its nice to meet you. Is this your first time to the falls?" They both nod. "Are you here on your honeymoon?" Jim notices Nancy trying to get a look at Pam's left hand, which she has wrapped around her coffee cup.

"No," Pam chokes out, trying to swallow her muffin. "Just…"

"For a break. We needed an escape from work," Jim cuts in.

"Well, that's nice. We're traveling around the country as part of our retirement. We came here first because we honeymooned in Niagara Falls."

"How long have you been together?" Pam asks.

"It will be forty-eight years this fall."

"Wow," Jim says, impressed. "Was it a lot different?"

"It was basically just the falls back then. The town was much smaller. Where are you from?"

"Pennsylvania."

"We're from Pennsylvania too! Near Pittsburgh."

"Scranton."

"Well you're just adorable." He notices Pam blush as Nancy says this. He gets up to throw away his trash.

"We'll let you two finish your breakfast in peace," he says.

Nancy nods. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Pam replies, smiling. "Bye."

Jim shoots Pam a wide-eyed expression as they throw away their trash and head back to the room.

"They were cute," Pam says off his look.

"I'm not saying they weren't. Just…talkative."

"Well, can you blame her? Sid didn't say a word the whole time! She's probably lonely."

"It was pretty cool that they came back here."

"And they were traveling around…at their age." They're both quiet for a minute and he wonders if she's thinking about the same thing he is. Maybe one day they'll be the couple who have been married for forty-odd years. "So what are we doing today?" She finally asks, startling him out of his thoughts.

"I thought we'd go over to the Canadian side, check it out."

"Ooh, can I drive? I want to drive across the border."

"Alright," he laughs.

A few minutes later they're heading towards the end of town and the Canadian border. Pam is driving, her hair dancing in the breeze. He's not sure he's ever seen her drive before and he comments on it. "Oh, I love to drive. I just don't have a car to myself. If I did, I would just go out driving."

"Where?"

"Oh, no where and everywhere." She turns up the radio, singing along as she taps her fingers on the wheel. He smiles, wishing he had a camera to capture the moment, but deciding its more pure just existing in his memory.

* * *

She hasn't thought about it as much today, but as they walk towards the falls, she knows she needs to tell him.

"Jim." She takes a shaky breath as she says his name. He stops a couple steps ahead of her, and when he turns and sees the look on her face, it's like he knows. He steps towards her and envelops her in a hug.

"Hey," he soothes. She sniffles into his t-shirt, pulling at the thin cotton hem. "What's wrong?"

"I need to," she gulps in air, because suddenly she's having trouble breathing. "Tell you."

"About Roy?" He frowns, concerned.

She nods, tears filling her eyes. "Lose you," she whispers, unable to say anything else.

"You're not going to lose me." He replies softly as they sway in their embrace.

She doesn't reply, just rests her cheek against his chest. "I didn't tell him that night," she finally starts. "About what happened. I wasn't sure how. I kept thinking he might just look at me and i know /i , but of course that didn't happen." She reminds herself to take a breath as she twists her fingers in the hem of Jim's shirt. She lets the fabric go and glances up at him. "Anyway, I told him on Saturday because we usually watch a movie and I couldn't sit next to him for two hours and have him not i know /i ."

"What did he say?"

"He was angry, but mostly I think he was shocked. He kept saying he couldn't believe it." She shakes her head, bites her lip. "So I left and I called you."

His face softens. "Yeah, you did."

"Jim, I--"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't do it for you." She watches his face fall a little.

He frowns. "I'm not sure what--"

"I did it for me. And I know you want more than this and I want so, so badly to give it to you, you have no idea. But I need to figure out…what i I /i want." She gestures to herself. She's been thinking about this a lot since he picked her up from the motel. She can go to the graphic design internship in New York, she can travel, and she can go out with Jim at the end of the week for drinks. There are options, instead of June 10th and this is the rest of your life.

"That's all I wanted. Okay, not i all /i ," he cracks a smile. "But I did want you to see what you could be. You are such a—you're funny and you're warm and— I don't think you know that."

"I'm scared because I don't see that. The way you described me, I don't see that. I only see it when I'm with you, and I'm afraid I won't be able to find that out here, by myself."

"You will."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm your best friend."

"Thank you for that, by the way," she sighs.

He nods. "I know."

"So you're okay?" she asks. "With waiting?"

"It'll be worth it." She smiles and he puts his arm around her as they walk towards the falls.


End file.
